Two Hand Touch
by Laurel-Crowned
Summary: Duo teaches the guys how to play American football.


**Title: Two Hand Touch**

**Rating: PG, only because I associate the 'G' rating with happy, dancing forest animals and stuff like that …**

**Warnings: Some language. Slight shounen ai implications are probably there if you go out of your way to infer them, but generally friendly to fans of either preference.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the G-boys, I don't own football. In fact, I don't own anything good. *goes off to pout in the corner***

**A/N: I don't know why, but the one-shots won't leave me alone. Written in the same spirit as my story _Desert, if you've read that, though they really have nothing to do with one another. Just full of silly randomness that probably has no business actually being associated with the series. That said, please enjoy and let me know what you think. Comments of any nature are quite the coveted possessions these days …_**

_          _          _

_            Ka-snap! Ka-snap! Ka-snap!_

_            "Duo, would you …"_

            _Ka-snap!_

            "Duo, I'd really …"

            _Ka-snap! Ka-snap!_

            "Duo! Stop it!"

            _Ka-ping!_

_            The black elastic band went flying through the air, its trajectory leading it straight through the room on a collision course with a certain forehead of golden complexion. _

            "Maxwell!" Wufei shouted, throwing his papers to the ground in frustration as angry onyx eyes rose to meet exasperated violet. Heero looked up from his laptop momentarily, shooting Duo a disapproving glance. Trowa chose to ignore the situation, and Quatre sighed. Duo was restless, and that meant trouble in the tiny safe house where they were sequestered. 

            "Sorry, Fei, I was aiming for the lampshade," Duo said, his voice full of frustrated energy. He was practically twitching with anticipation, not a good sign for the other four pilots. Wufei snorted and chose not to rise from the couch.

            "Your aim could stand some improvement," was all he said, glaring at the braided pilot as he reached down to pick the black band from the folds of his pants. He looked at it indifferently, then promptly shot it into the corner of the room. Duo gave a squeak of protest. 

            "Fei, that was mine!"

            "It was _annoying. Find something else to do," Wufei snapped, reaching to gather his disarrayed papers. Duo stuck out his lower lip, blowing out a puff of air._

            "There isn't anything else to do! I'm _bored. How can you guys just __sit here?"_

            "We were ordered not to provoke any suspicion," Heero said, never lifting his gaze from the glowing computer screen. 

            "He's right, Duo," Quatre added gently. "It's best that we all stay here and wait quietly. I'm sure this will all be over soon."

            "But I can't just sit here! I gotta do something!" Duo whined. "Can we play a game or something, guys? Huh? Please?"

            "I think we have a deck of cards somewhere," Quatre offered. Duo shook his head adamantly.

            "No, something where we can move around," Duo said. "I've got to burn some energy, guys! I know! Let's play football, please? We've got a big enough yard out back!"

            "_Football?!" Heero said the word like it tasted bad. "Absolutely not."_

            "Aww, come on Heero, why not?"

            "For starters, we don't even have a ball."

            "I'll go buy one!" Duo said excitedly. 

            "You will not," Heero replied evenly. "That would be hazardous to our concealment."

            "Please, Heero?!" 

            "No." 

            "Guys, back me up here!" Duo pleaded. Wufei just snorted as he continued to scan his papers. Trowa offered Duo a small expression of sympathy, but remained silent. Quatre bit his lip, and then sighed helplessly.

            "Sorry, Duo, but Heero's right. You really can't be running around the town right now."

            "But … but I want to play football!"

            "Too bad, Maxwell."

            "If I get a football … without leaving the house," Duo added upon seeing Heero's glare, "will you guys agree to play?" 

            The other four pilots looked at each other. They knew full well that there wasn't any such item in the safe house. Duo didn't have a chance.

            "Of course we'll play, Duo. But there isn't a football around here," Quatre answered for them. Duo's face broke into a wide grin anyway.

            "You guys just wait here! I'll come back and get you when I'm ready to play!"

            "Duo ..!" Quatre began, but the braided boy had already shot off into the hall with a determined look on his face. The blond sighed as they watched him go. Duo was up to something, that was for sure.

            *_crash*_

            "Ow!"

            *_ba-bang!*_

            "Aw, damnit!"

            *_thud … thud … thudthudthud*_

            "No … no … nonono! Come back here!"

            Wufei lifted his eyes reluctantly, his gaze pulled toward the wall that blocked the view of the staircase. Duo was making an awful lot of noise, even for his normal standards. He had been eerily quiet for nearly an hour, then suddenly the upper level of the house had exploded into a flurry of loud noises and curses. The pounding of Duo's feet on the stairs had finally driven the Chinese boy over the edge. 

            "Will someone go shut him up?" he asked the otherwise silent room. Heero gave a soft snort from behind his computer screen, and Trowa didn't even raise his head from where it rested on the arm of his chair. Quatre watched the direction of the noise as well, his face creased with confused worry.

            "I wonder what he's doing …?" the blond said instead of answering Wufei. 

            "Ah _ha! Thought you could escape, did you?!" Duo's voice floated into the room. It had most likely originated from the landing halfway up the stairs, Wufei guessed with an annoyed sigh. _

            "Maxwell!" he called out suddenly. "Would you keep it down?!"

            "Um … no?" Duo replied lightly, laughing a little. "Thanks for asking though!"

            "Duo, please?" Quatre tried, ignoring the sudden grinding noise from Wufei as the solemn young man clenched his jaw tightly. "Trowa's trying to sleep and Heero's working. A little quieter, please?"

            "Tch … _all right," Duo replied after a short pause. "But I'm gonna be ready soon, so I hope you are too!" The words were followed promptly by the thundering of Duo running up the stairs once more, and Quatre frowned lightly._

            "Ready for what?" he asked softly. No one else in the room had an answer for that.

            "Okay! Ready to play!" 

            The four quiet pilots calmly shared a rather confused look. Duo sounded serious. Where could the braided boy, as resourceful as he was, find something in a safe house that simply didn't exist? Duo came bouncing into the room, his hands held behind his back as he grinned at his comrades. 

            "Duo, quit pretending. We both know you did not find a football in this house," Heero said sternly. Duo's smile only widened.

            "Right you are, Heero."

            "Then what are you talking about?"

            "I have a substitute ball. It's good, it works. I tested it upstairs," Duo explained, grinning proudly.

            "Substitute?" Wufei repeated, his voice mocking. Duo chose to ignore the tone. 

            "Yeah. I made it!"

            "You _made it?" Quatre repeated nervously. "With __what?"_

            "Just …some stuff. Lying around stuff, you know," Duo shrugged. "Want to see? Tada!" Whipping his hands out from hiding, Duo displayed his 'football' for the others to see. 

            Wufei snorted, Quatre squeaked, and Heero's eyes narrowed. Trowa sat up to get a better view, but beyond that he gave no visible reaction.

            "Wh-what the heck is _that?" Wufei finally spoke, pointing at the thing in Duo's hands. Duo tossed it back and forth between his palms, looking down at the mostly football-shaped bundle.  _

            "It's an improvised football. _Duh."_

            "Duo? What exactly did you make it out of?" Quatre asked again, his eyes locked firmly on the ball. 

            "Don't you like it?" he asked, but at the pointed look in the blond's eyes he sighed. "Well, I used some weights in the middle, you know? So it has a proper center of gravity and all. The rest of it's just made out of … well, just some stuff I found. Then I used duct tape over the top to make it firm enough. And _then I drew the stitching and stuff on the outside with a marker."_

            "Define stuff," Quatre said. "I see bits of blue … and green."

            "Oh, um, yeah," Duo nodded. "It's mostly made out of clothes."

            "But Duo … you don't wear those colors," Quatre pointed out. "At least, I've never seen you …"

            "Yeah … well, I wasn't gonna cut up _my clothes," Duo said. "It's not the right kind of material. But Heero and Wu's shirts worked great!"_

            "What?!" two consternated shouts followed the confession, and the two said pilots leapt to their feet with angry glares set on their features. Duo's grin didn't waver. 

            "Yeah, they worked really well!" he chirped, steadily backing up as Wufei and Heero advanced on him. "What? It's not like you guys couldn't spare _one shirt! Guys …? Come on, stop looking at me like that …"_

            "Maxwell … you're dead," Wufei said with quiet determination, glowering at the braided pilot. Heero didn't say anything, but his hand was twitching as if it would soon be rushing in search of a firearm. Duo's smile held as he turned to run.

            "Come on! Get over it already!" he shouted as he went, goading the two to follow as he darted toward the back door. They gave chase without thinking, their expressions unusually malicious. Quatre bit his lower lip, casting Trowa an unsure look.

            "They wouldn't really hurt him, would they …?" 

            Trowa sighed, dragging himself to his feet with a slight wince. He started in the direction that the other three had disappeared, motioning for the blond to follow. 

            "Ow! Wu_fei, that __hurt!" _

            "That was the point, Maxwell! Now stop squirming!" the Chinese pilot growled, lunging at Duo once more. Duo sidestepped easily, dancing away on the grass with his homemade football still clutched in his hands. However, he had made the mistake of taking his attention away from Heero. The next thing he knew, Duo had been knocked to the grass and found himself pinned down by a glaring Japanese boy. Duo looked up at him, blinking a few times, then suddenly he started laughing. 

            "What's so funny?!" Heero demanded, pushing away from Duo and getting to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest moodily. Duo laughed harder, clutching his football to his chest as he stomped one foot on the ground. 

            "Duo? Are you okay?" Quatre asked, coming up behind Heero and Wufei with Trowa at his side. Duo kept on laughing, struggling to sit as tears of mirth appeared in the corners of his eyes. 

            "I … I … I'm fine, Q!" he managed to say between gasps of laughter, lifting a hand to wipe at his face. "You … shoulda seen their _faces! D-didn't think it'd … be that easy!"_

            "What?"

            "To get Heero and Wufei outside!" Duo explained. "I knew I'd have to lure them out here, but I didn't think it'd be so _easy!" The surprised anger on the two said pilots' faces at being tricked made Duo burst into giggles again, and he collapsed onto the grass once more._

            "Your maturity level is pitiful, Maxwell!" Wufei sniffed, piqued at being made a fool by the braided teen. Heero fixed a dark glare on Duo and kept silent, watching him try to pick himself up off the ground.

            "Okay, okay, I'm done," Duo grinned, fighting to keep his voice steady. "So we're all in the backyard now, and we've got a good enough ball. You all know how to play?"

            "We _aren't playing," Wufei said, pivoting as if to return to the house. _

            "Oh yes you are!" Duo retorted loudly. "You said you would!"

            "That isn't true. _Winner said we would," Wufei said. Duo rolled his eyes._

            "Well, I didn't hear anyone protest, so that means you all agreed," he reasoned, setting a solid look on his face as he stared Wufei and Heero down. "You're all staying out here. All of you."

            "But Duo …" Quatre began. 

            "Ah ah ah! No buts," Duo shook his head. "It'll be fun, I promise. First things first, I guess. We have to pick teams." Wufei groaned, and Trowa gave Duo a wary look that the braided pilot picked up.

            "Okay, well, it's obviously going to be three on two. Tro, you can be on the team with three, seeing as you're still kind of banged up from your last mission. Okay? Does anyone else know how to play? No?" Silence answered him, and he sighed. "Guess I'll decide then. All right, Quatre and Heero, you be on Trowa's team. Fei, you're with me."

            "What?!" Wufei frowned. 

            "Is there a problem?" Duo asked calmly. 

            "You're doing this just to annoy me, aren't you?" Wufei ground out. 

            "No. I have good reason," Duo defended himself. "Trowa has to be on that team because he's injured. I'm the only experienced player here, so it only makes sense that I be on the two man team. Quatre's probably going to catch onto the strategy of the game pretty quick, but I doubt he's going to be the most aggressive player. And Heero … well, he's too mechanical. You, at least, I can depend on to be competitive. So it's you and me, Fei!"

            "But …!"

            "No buts."

            "But …!"

            "I said no buts, and that's final!" Duo exclaimed. The four other pilots stood stalk still, watching Duo with varied degrees of surprise and annoyance. Duo took a deep breath and continued. 

            "Now … on to the rules, unless anyone has any _real concerns?"_

            "Um …" Quatre raised a timid finger in the air. Duo glanced at him.

            "What is it?"

            "Isn't football a … contact sport?"

            "Yeah, so?"

            "Well, Trowa's hurt. He shouldn't play at all if he could risk further injury."

            "Oh, that's okay," Duo shrugged, offering a wide smile. "There's a way around that. We'll just play two hand touch."

            "…Oh. What?"

            "Instead of tackling, you just have to touch the guy with the ball with both of your hands. Clothing and the ball itself count, of course," Duo explained, but Quatre's frown only deepened.

            "Tackling?" he repeated uncertainly. "Isn't football the game where you're only allowed to kick the ball?" Duo gave a slight snort of disbelief, promptly smacking his own forehead with a resounding clap. 

            "That's _soccer, you idiot! That's not a contact sport at __all!" Quatre sniffed indignantly at the rude response._

            "Well excuse me! It's not like I've ever _played before!"_

            "Technically, Winner is right," Wufei supplied helpfully, smirking at Duo. "_Soccer is an American term for the sport otherwise known as __football. Because you use your __foot. Idiot."_

            "Well, we aren't playing soccer, we're playing football!" Duo fairly bellowed, holding up the ball as proof. "Does this _look like a soccer ball to you guys?!" Four faces blinked blankly at him, and Duo suppressed a sigh of annoyance. _

            "Well?!"

            "Sorry Duo. Of course it doesn't look like a soccer ball," Quatre began, and Duo smiled.

            "Well thank yo…"

            "But it doesn't really look like a football either. It sort of looks …"

            "Lopsided?"

            "Disfigured?"

            "Horribly mutated?"

            "That's enough!" Duo growled, his voice cutting off the adjectives the others were willingly providing. "Are you guys ready to learn or not?!" There was an eerie silence, as no one seemed to be willing to face Duo's sporadic wrath, and the braided pilot smiled smugly.

            "All right, here are the rules …"

_*          *          *_

            "So let me get this straight? We get _four tries to get it across the yard? That seems like a lot."_

            "If we aren't allowed to tackle, I don't want to play."

            "I don't understand these 'downs'. Where are they again? Shouldn't they be marked or something?"

            "This is stupid, Maxwell. I want to go inside."

            "… You have ten minutes left before I call off this ridiculous game."

            "Y'know? I think I'd rather play soccer. Can we do that instead?"

            Duo ground his teeth together, resisting the urge to reach up and pull out his hair. They just wouldn't stop complaining and whining and glaring and _nagging …_

            "Shut up, shut up, shut _up!" he demanded. "Yes, there are four downs. No, we can't mark them __or the in-zones, so just suck it up and remember! I don't care if you think it's stupid, Wufei, we're staying out here! Heero, shut off your internal clock before I shut if off for you! And __no, we aren't playing stupid wussy __soccer**[1]! Anyone else have something to say?!"**_

            Utter silence.

            "Good," Duo said in a calmer tone, clearing his throat slightly. "Do we all have a good enough grasp then? Yes? All right, let's get started."

*          *          *

            "Damn, I knew Quatre was gonna catch onto this too damn fast," Duo muttered, wiping at the nonexistent grit on his shirt as he eyed the other team. Wufei rolled his eyes; he hadn't stopped doing that since the game had started. 

            "Can we _stop now?" he asked for the third time. Duo shot him a dirty look._

            "No, we can't _stop now," Duo retorted, doing a fairly good impression of a falsetto-voiced Wufei and earning him a not-so-friendly punch from his irritable teammate._

            "I don't sound like that!" the Asian hissed. Duo waved away his protest.

            "Yeah yeah. Shut up and think, Fei. Quatre's up to something," he muttered. "Heero's a damn powerhouse, and Q-man knows it. Not fair that they got an extra player."

            "It was your idea."

            "All the same …"

            "How many more chances do they have?"

            "They're called downs, Fei, and they've got two. Geez, it's not hard to keep track of!"

            "Be quiet! Do you want my ideas or not?"

            "Sure, if you're being serious," Duo nodded sincerely. Wufei gave him a very serious look.

            "Well, I'm not about to let _them beat us," he rolled his eyes. "I do have pride, you know." Duo grinned at that, giving Wufei a hearty slap on the back._

            "I knew I could count on that, Fei!" Wufei glowered, shrugging him off and lowering his voice.

            "All we have to do is take out Barton."

            "Hmm?"

            "He is the team's weakness."

            "Look, I know he's injured but he's not _that bad …"_

            "No!" Wufei shook his head. "Listen, Maxwell. Winner is obviously their leader, right?"

            "Well yeah, he's the only one good enough to come up with a strategy or two, so …" Duo began, only to be cut off by Wufei.

            "Winner is keeping Barton out of the way in most of their tactics. I suspect we will need to keep our eye on him. Winner will likely come after both of us with Yuy, leaving Barton out of harm's way and also open to run." Duo blinked, giving Wufei a careful glance.    

            "You know, you might be right."

            "Of course I'm right. This isn't so different from battle, after all," Wufei snorted. Duo sighed.

            "Keep your ego in check, Wufei. I'll watch Trowa, you look after Heero," he said, then raised his voice as he turned back to the others. "Hey, you guys done with your timeout yet? It's been more than long enough …"

            "All right, we're ready," Quatre replied, and the three got into position. Duo watched them intently, noticing that Trowa was off to the side a little more than necessary. His eyes flitted from Quatre to Trowa and back again, and he tensed for movement. 

            "Hike!" Quatre yelled, giggling a little as he said it. For some reason he found the term amusing; Duo had given up on trying to stop him from laughing every single time he said it. The ball went flying to Heero, and Wufei jumped to action. Duo rushed forward as if to take Quatre, but he kept his eyes open. He noticed the sideways pass to Trowa at the last second, and spun on his heel to dive at the banged boy.

            "I gotcha now!" Duo crowed triumphantly, his right hand snagging one of Trowa's sleeves and the other struggling for a hold. Trowa staggered as Duo twisted, nearly dropping the ball, and was saved from a fall only by Duo pulling him back toward himself.

            "Duo, be careful!" Quatre shouted, stomping as he ran toward the pair.

            "I'm fine, Quatre," Trowa said, straightening and holding the ball out to the blond. Quatre ignored the proffered item, opting instead to glare at Duo.

            "You nearly knocked him over. What if you'd torn his stitches or hit one of his injuries! I knew this wasn't a good idea!"

            "Oi, chill out, Q-man. No damage done, he said so himself," Duo said, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. Quatre just huffed, taking the ball at last and pulling Trowa back toward where Heero stood looking generally pissed off. Duo watched them go curiously, then turned to Wufei when the boy appeared next to him.

            "Guess this means war, huh Wu?" he said lightly.

            "Like it or not," Wufei agreed with a nod.

            "Well, we can take 'em. Nice call on defense, by the way. You're better at this than I thought you'd be," Duo said, smiling. Wufei scowled and looked away.

            "Yeah, whatever."

            "I think maybe next time though, I'll go for Heero while you handle the rest."

            "Right," Wufei snorted. "You just want an excuse to grope Yuy."

            "Do not!" Duo protested, smacking Wufei's arm half-heartedly. "I just don't want to get on Quatre's bad side again!" Wufei shrugged, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he walked off to get in position.

            Duo didn't know how much time had passed, but he knew it was well beyond Heero's appointed ten minutes. The Japanese pilot hadn't seemed to notice, and Duo wasn't about to say anything. The game had actually gotten pretty intense, and no one was complaining anymore. He and Wufei had the ball, and were currently discussing strategy. Someone cleared their throat.

            "I think your time is more than up," Quatre said politely. Duo looked up, grinning at the blond. He had proven to be quite competitive after all. Nodding, he gave Wufei a wink and crouched low. 

            "Eighteen … six … ninety three and a half … forty two squared …"

            "Get on with it!" Heero snapped.

            "Tch, you're no fun, Heero," Duo replied cheekily, then his face fell back to seriousness. "Fine. Hike!" He started running forward with Wufei at his side, charging the tight defenses that the others had placed. He waited until it was almost too late before snapping the ball to the side, landing it safely in Wufei's awaiting hands. With a cry Duo launched himself at the others, allowing his arms to be trapped by Trowa and Heero. With those two adequately distracted, all that Wufei had to worry about was Quatre. The blond was close at his heels, and with a slight lurch he managed to secure his hands on Wufei's waist. However, his foot caught on the ground awkwardly and he went flailing to the hard earth. Wufei kept running despite the legal tackle.

            "Hey! You're cheating!" Quatre yelled, on his feet in an instant. The blond had been fairly passive in action throughout most of the game, opting to strategize for the other two players on his team, but now his competitive nature drove him to tear after Wufei. Duo bounced in Trowa and Heero's grasp, excited.

            "Yeah! Go Q-man!" he shouted encouragement. "Tackle him good!"

            "Traitor!" Wufei growled loudly, and Duo laughed.

            "You cheated, Wu! That means Quatre can tackle you! Go for it, man!" Fueled by determination, Quatre had managed to catch up with the Asian. With a cry he dove, barreling into Wufei's back and sending them both to the ground. Wufei yelped, the ball flying from his grasp as his forehead smacked oddly on the hard earth. He fell oddly still, and Quatre laughed as he pushed himself to his knees and turned to beam back at his teammates. 

            The three others had abandoned their stalemate to rush toward the two, expressions varying. Duo reached him first, ruffling Quatre's hair in a friendly fashion.

            "Nice goin', Q," he expressed his approval. "That was really good. No offense, Wufei." Wufei gave a sort of squeaking groan, but made no retort. Duo's face faltered a little.

            "Fei? You okay there, buddy?" Quatre paled, turning back to the fallen boy and gently reaching to turn him over.

            "Wufei? I'm sorry, are you all right?" Wufei's narrowed eyes gazed hazily up at Quatre for a moment before promptly rolling back in his head. 

            A blinding flash of light awaited him as he slowly opened his eyes. He grumbled in irritation, trying to block out the pounding headache that currently held his temples in a vice-like state of agony.

            "I think he's coming around!" Someone said far too loudly. Wufei winced.

            "Wufei?" a quieter voice asked, concern evident. "Can you hear us? Are you okay?"

            "Calm down Quatre …"

            "No! This is my fault!"

            "It was an accident."

            "I shouldn't have gotten so competitive."

            "You didn't mean to hurt him …"

            "But I did!"

            "Quatre .."

            "Would you all stop bickering?!" Wufei demanded in a surprisingly strong voice. He managed to force his eyes open wider, finding himself ensconced on the sofa inside the safehouse with a myriad of faces hovering over him. He jumped slightly.

            "Get away from me!"

            "Hey, we just wanted to see if you were okay," Duo's overly cheerful voice informed him, but they mostly pulled away.

            "My head hurts."

            "Yeah, you got a pretty nice bump up here," Duo said, tapping Wufei's forehead. Wufei snarled, trying to jerk away. 

            "Don't _touch it!"_

            "Geez, sorry," Duo sighed. 

            "He isn't concussed," Trowa said rationally. "I think you can all leave him alone now. Quatre, it's all right."

            "Wufei, are you sure you're okay?" Quatre insisted, looking unusually guilty and distraught. "Can I get you something?"

            "Get Maxwell away from me," was all he said, reaching to pull the blanket that was draped over him up over his face.

            "Hey," Duo said, patting Wufei lightly on the shoulder before turning to the others. "Well, that wasn't so bad on the whole. See, football isn't _that bad."_

            "Says you!" Wufei snapped.

            "Hn," Heero crossed his arms as Duo looked to him for defense. "It was a waste of time."

            "Yeah, but …"

            "I still would have rather played soccer," Quatre said softly. "That's less dangerous."

            "Yeah, but …!"

            "Well, we certainly don't have to play it again," Trowa assured the blond. Duo groaned. 

            "Geez, you guys are _no fun!" he said in an exaggerated tone. "We haven't even got to the best part yet." Three faces looked at him in confusion; under a blanket, a fourth face mirrored the expression._

            "The post-game snacks!" Duo answered their unasked question. "This calls for something traditional, I think. Let's order pizza!"

            "No," Heero said immediately. "We can't draw attention to ourselves."

            "I'll go pick some up then," Duo offered.

            "What did I say about going into town?" Heero glared. Duo sighed loudly.

            "Fine, fine. I could always try to _make some pizza, if you'd rather …" The dilapidated homemade football on the coffee table suddenly gained a lot of rather wary attention; for a moment no one spoke, considering the ramifications of Duo making something they would be forced to ingest. It was Wufei who finally broke the silence._

            "Oh, for the love …" he sighed, ripping the blanket away from his face to glare at Heero. "Yuy! Just let Maxwell order the damn pizza already before he gets any more ideas!"

            "Hey! I do resent that, you know!" Duo defended himself before turning to Heero. "Well, Heero? Do I need to start looking for ingredients, or will you let me call?" Heero sighed, looking from Wufei's sour expression to Quatre's rather horrified face to Trowa's look of slight trepidation. He threw his hands up in defeat.

            "Fine! Just this once!"

  


* * *

[1] Duo disses soccer just a little bit. No, I don't hate soccer. Duo's just a bit peeved at the moment, so don't hurt me, soccer fans. Angry-Duo's views are not meant to offend! ^_^


End file.
